My Life Is Scarier Than Some Haunted House
by Satan's Army
Summary: Isabella has always thought of herself as ugly and worthless because of her abusive stepfather Phil, but now Isabella is turning 18 and can try to escape her life of trying to survive each day. Who will she meet? and do haunted houses really exist? Review


**Hi guys!!! I know...I know...this is another new story...I know! I'm soooo infuriating, I'll get on with the other stories at some point but first I wanted to post this. I know it's pretty short but i would REALLY appreciate it if you reviewed and if you want--check out my other stories if you haven't read 'em yet. :)  
Oh and i know this story is really annoying and angst-y at first but later chappies will be better...this is just how it had to start though unfortunately...**

A whimper escaped my lips.

Pulling my dud leg to my chest I huddled into a corner. He was stalking towards me, my back pressed further into the wall until it hurt.

His croaking laugh filled my ears as his arm wound back, then flung forward. The new glass bottle of beer smashed against my temple. It shattered and clattered to the ground around me, the beer mixing with the blood from my wound. This concoction of beer, blood, and tears soaked my ragged jeans.

The pain in my now broken leg was terrible, but nothing I wasn't used to.

He bent down so we were now face to face, and leaned in so our noses were almost touching. His breath made me want to cringe and gag, but I knew better than to do that by now. I tried to focus and remain conscious in fear of what would happen to me if I wasn't aware, but my head was hurting so much…and black spots were starting to blur my vision…

His throaty laugh rung out again. I tried to turn my head away from the monster but he growled and roughly grabbed me by the hair and jerked my head so that my muddy ugly brown eyes met his cold, black, narrowed ones.

He spat in my face, "You are worthless! Renee left because of YOU, and now you need to be punished…"

Still holding that wad of my matted hair, he brought me roughly to my feet, I hissed in pain, my leg felt like it was on fire and the black spots continued to dot my vision. He just smirked, "If you think that hurts then tonight is going to be Hell for you…"

Phil was ruthless, just as he always is on his drunken raids in my house. He beat me and harassed me in ways I can't put into words, there are things in life that just shouldn't be repeated.

That particular night Phil was at it until the early signs of morning where he finally passed out on the floor. Beaten and broken I tried to force my way to a telephone, ending up having to drag my body to the nearest one ended up taking over an hour. When the ambulance finally arrived I couldn't stay conscious any longer—I was out cold for 3 weeks.

When I finally woke up I was met with large black cold eyes in front of mine.

Phil's cold, hard voice was deadly, "You are a lucky little survivor aren't you? Well I can guarantee if you say ANYTHING that will put me in prison you won't be so lucky next time. There is no place in the world that will hide you, you worthless, insignificant spawn of another man!"

I nodded like a bobble head in an earthquake and was trembling so severely the bed shook. He chuckled as if seeing me in this state was worth all the money in the world. At least until he noticed the heart rate monitor was beeping so fast it was sparking.

We could hear the footsteps of nurses and doctors coming to my cubicle, so with a frown he got off of the hospital bed. I had just noticed as he was getting up that he had been straddling my sheet-covered legs…I shuttered.

When the doctors came into the room all showing signs of sincere relief at my waking, Phil stood by the bed with a well-put-on look of concern that could only be given away as fake if you saw the ever-present evil glint in his eyes.

But most people subconsciously tried to avoid those menacing eyes, like I was doing right now…

Later on that day when I had been changed and fed, the police approached my bed. They questioned me ruthlessly, I only gave the answers that I knew wouldn't be a cause for future beatings. Phil had left the room during this process, much to my great pleasure, but I knew he wouldn't go far.

Among the police officers surrounding my bed, the alpha, a beautiful woman with russet skin and jet black hair stepped up, the name on her badge read, 'ALPHA INVESTIGATOR LEAH' wowwww….bit dramatic and intimidating but ok…

She started with simple questions, "Name?"

"…Isabella," I whispered.

"I meant _full_ name..?" She said brashly.

_Well then…_

"Isabella Marie Swan," underneath my breath I muttered a sarcastic, "m''am."

She glared at me.

I had to resist the urge to giggle, this was more fun than I've had since…Renee…._left_—okay that sobered me up, all I have to do is remember whose life I'm living right now, _mine_, and my life doesn't have spaces for giggles or fun, only fear and terror…**(A/N: Note for my friend Amy—"ugh!! ANGST!!" Haha ok I'm done…)** my mood had darkened drastically and we continued to rattle of questions without the bantering tones…

"Age?"

"What's the date?"

"That's what _you're_ supposed to tell _me_," she dragged out the words annoyingly.

"No I meant today's date!" I snapped back! Okay, screw all pretenses of being civil to the other!

"Well—," luckily her retort was cut off by another voice, this was a male's voice who seemed to be around my age with the same russet skin tone and jet black hair as 'Investigator Leah' I mocked her childishly in my head…

"Leah, I know you are Alpha here, but shouldn't the patient avoid overexertion after such an '_accident_'" I know I didn't mistake the sarcastic emphasis he added to the word 'accident.' What did that mean? Did it mean they know Phil is the one who did it? Uh oh… he'll assume I told…not good, not good…sooooo not good….

Leah signed dramatically, "Fine Seth, you're right I guess…" she heaved another sigh, but Seth stepped in again.

"Hey Leah, since I'm new, can I give this a swing?" His black eyes weren't cold and hard like the ones I knew so well, but they were happy and playful.

She nodded exasperatedly but gave him the clip board she was holding anyway.

"So…the date?" I questioned.

"August 30st, 2009." Seth said cheerily.

"Alright…so I'll be 18 in exactly 2 weeks." I shot Leah a look that was blatantly obvious saying, 'HA! See my question WAS relevant! So pull that stick out of your butt or get an attitude adjustment!'

Seth grinned when he noticed the exchange between Leah and me.

"Alright…next question…gender?"

He looked up realizing what he just said and grinned sheepishly at me as I raised one eyebrow; I saw his cheeks tint pink a little…_aww!!! Cute!!! _

He flipped a few pages on the clip board mumbling unintelligibly…something like, 'pointless questions' and 'skip to the good ones.'

"Alright…well here are the forms you need to fill out to report Phil Dwyer for child abuse and file sexual harassment charges…"he was pointing to a bunch of things and flipping through papers, talking all the while, but his voice was no more than a mere buzzing in my ear…

_Did he just say what I _think_ he just said..?!_

I focused a little more to see the boy in front of me and the papers on my lap more clearly…

_Oh snap…_

Who knew Mr. Playful could be so damn blunt…

With force I shoved all the paper back into Seth's hands whilst shaking my head vehemently.

There was no way I was going to report Phil, there was no way I was going to tell anyone anything anywhere anytime anyplace about my stepfather. That would be suicide.

I tried to get the officers to leave my room for 10 minutes, twice during this time I could've swore I saw Phil's face flash in front of the office window, but each time before I could focus properly, he was gone.

_He's probably wondering what's taking this so long, I thought to myself…and I don't want him suspecting anything…_

I fisted my hand up in a ball underneath and with some force I smacked the doctor's call button above my right shoulder. It buzzed satisfyingly. When the doctor came into the room I complained of my head hurting, which wasn't completely untrue—that officer Leah could give anyone a migraine…

As the officers were escorted from the room, and Phil returned, I felt my heart give a jolt, a ping of loss—I was watching an opportunity walk right out the door.

-_BUT! -_ I reminded myself, _just another 2 weeks until my real plan will take hold._

_Just another 2 weeks…_

**Okay... there's chappie number 1!  
You like? (doubt it)  
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Thanks again!  
with love,  
~Satan**


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